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A Bride and a Child for the Beastly Duke

Page 78

by Daphne Byrne

“You have charm,” Laura said. “You ration it very carefully, and only for people who’ve earned it, but you have it.”

“An astute observation, as always, Duchess.”

They made the rounds and exchanged pleasantries with acquaintances before heading toward the terrace. Everett and Kitty had already claimed a corner with two glasses of champagne.

“There you are.” Everett raised his glass in greeting. “We’d nearly given up on you. Lady Kitty was three minutes from sending a footman to fetch you.”

“I would have done it graciously,” Kitty said, sipping her champagne.

“You would have caused a scene,” Nathaniel retorted, and Laura realized just how much she liked the sound of her husband speaking so familiarly with her closest friend.

“A graceful scene.” Kitty corrected, before getting up and looping her arm through Laura’s. “Never mind them. Tell me you’ve heard the gossip making the rounds tonight, because I refuse to be the one who has to explain it to you.”

“What gossip?” Laura asked, the color draining from her cheeks.

“That you’re both entirely ordinary and rather likable, which has thrown half this room into a state of confusion.” Kitty’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I overheard Lady Doubleton not ten minutes ago asking whether the stories about your husband had been exaggerated all along. Lady Doubleton, Laura. The woman hasn’t reconsidered an opinion since the Regency began.”

“I heard something similar near the punch bowl,” Everett said to Nathaniel. “A whole cluster of them, watching you like you might do a trick. One fellow said, and I quote, ‘He laughs now, apparently,’ as though it were a mildly alarming development.”

“I have always laughed,” Nathaniel scoffed. “Why is this such a revelation?”

“You have not always laughed, Nate. I have known you for seventeen years, and I could count the instances on one hand before this spring.” Everett grinned, unrepentant. “It’s rather wonderful to watch, honestly. Half the ton doesn’t know what to do with a version of you that doesn’t scowl on sight.”

“They’ll adjust, I am sure.”

“They’re adjusting right now, not six feet from where we’re standing.” Kitty tilted her head toward a cluster of matrons near the orchestra, watching the four of them over their feathered fans. “Look at them. Absolutely riveted! I do believe you’re the most interesting thing to happen to this ballroom since the Dartmouth scandal.”

“God help us,” Nathaniel drawled.

“Now you’re speaking of God. Perhaps you really are a new man,” Everett said.

Nathaniel laughed again, bending his head toward Laura’s to wink at her, making her heart skip a beat.

“He seems almost fond of her,” a distant voice noted, faintly astonished, as though fondness were a language no one had expected the Duke of Duskwell to speak.

“They are quite infatuated with each other, indeed,” another said. “A good match.”

Laura took a deep breath and felt something in her chest ease that she hadn’t realized was still tight until that very moment.

She said nothing to Kitty or anyone then. She merely let the words settle over her like a warm blanket.

Nearly an hour into the evening, in the lull between two dances that both couples had enjoyed, the room’s temperature dropped ten degrees. Or so it seemed.

What is going on?

Laura felt a chill ripple through the crowd near the entrance. Conversations faltered, and heads turned. She looked toward the doors and saw a tall, silver-haired man in immaculate evening dress pause at the top of the short flight of steps leading down into the ballroom.

She did not need to be told who he was. She felt it in the sudden stillness that overtook Nathaniel beside her, as if he had frozen after seeing a ghost. His hand clenched where it rested on her waist, every trace of the easy warmth he’d worn all evening vanishing in an instant.

“Cumberlea,” she breathed, her blood running cold.

“Yes.”

The room was so quiet, eerily timed with the orchestra’s break.

Cumberlea descended the steps confidently, greeting acquaintances with an easy nod here and there, and made his way, with what could only have been purpose, directly toward Nathaniel and Laura.

“He’s coming toward us,” Laura said, her voice low.